


Pale and Gray

by ab2fsycho



Series: Hold My Tea and Watch This [3]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, BlackIce, First Time, Hopefully I drank enough tea for this to seem like it's okay, I don't know how much more explicit I can make this, M/M, Sexual Content, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:38:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Frost has just kissed his enemy and things get pretty darn crazy from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pale and Gray

Jack stepped back several steps once he realized what he’d done. Pitch stood stock still, staring at nothing it seemed. Jack wasn’t quite sure if Pitch was totally in shock or if he was silently plotting some sort of revenge. He really hoped he was in shock, especially given Jack’s more vulnerable state. Without his staff, Pitch could easily overpower Jack.

“Why did you do that?” Pitch finally asked, his eyes narrowing on Jack’s face. 

Jack may have gulped at the sight of that . . . almost a glare. It wasn’t quite a glare yet. “I—.” Jack just couldn’t speak today. ‘I’ seemed to be the only word he knew. “I—.”

“While your stuttering is rather compelling, I’d appreciate it if you told what just transpired here.” Pitch was taking this entirely too calmly. Based on his voice alone, one would think this sort of thing happened every day. His facial expression read otherwise, however.

“I don’t know,” Jack finally said. He grumbled to himself, calling himself several different kinds of inaudible names as he grabbed his hair and crouched to the ground in panic. “Shit, what am I doing?” was the first audible thing he asked himself once he’d finished the string of ‘idiot’s, ‘dumbass’s, and other assorted names. At this point, he was actually certain that if Pitch didn’t kill him, the Guardians would. Someone was going to kill him for that.

He almost jumped when Pitch placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. The Guardian looked up, but found that the Nightmare King was standing behind him. How had he moved there without Jack detecting him? “All those things you said. About regretting and guilt. Were you being serious?”

Jack’s eyes met Pitch’s. So unreadable. How could Pitch be so unreadable after what Jack had done? But Jack sighed, closed his eyes, and turned his face away. He wrapped his arms around his legs as he sat. “Yeah.”

“You’re . . . being honest?” Pitch asked. 

Jack squinted up at him. “Are you just asking me the same question, but in a different way? Yeah, I was serious. Yeah, I’m being honest. Yeah, I kissed you—.”

Jack gasped as Pitch suddenly lifted him off the ground and turned him around to face him. Before Jack could even ask, he was being kissed senseless. Every thought that had been gunning for attention in his mind completely and utterly disappeared then. He still had enough sense to wrap his arms around Pitch’s neck, thankfully. The Boogeyman was just tall enough that if Jack fell, it would leave yet another set of bruises. Judging from the tight grip Pitch had on his waist, the likelihood of that happening was second to none.

Jack’s skin was naturally cold, and Pitch’s skin felt smoldering. The areas where Pitch was making contact with him were sweating. His lips felt like they were on fire. When Pitch’s tongue invaded Jack’s mouth, Jack whimpered in surprise at the heat. The whimper became a moan as Jack used his own tongue. He grunted in surprise when Pitch pressed him into the wall he’d been trapped against mere minutes before. This time, he wasn’t panicking. In fact, he was feeling quite the opposite, which technically should have made him panic.

Because Jack Frost was wrapping his legs around the waist of and making out with the incredibly tall Pitch Black.



What am I doing? Pitch thought to himself for the briefest of moments. But then he was too wrapped up in the one person he was supposed to hate the most to put serious thought into the question. And that feeling. That feeling that keeps coming back at the strangest times was roaring inside him now. He couldn’t get close enough to Jack. He was almost twice the Guardian’s size and could probably hide the boy in his robes, and yet he still couldn’t get enough of him. He couldn’t feel enough of him.

Pitch reached under Jack’s shirt with both hands, and the winter spirit tensed. Soon the boy melted into his touch, and Pitch let loose a growl at the coolness of Jack’s skin. He dug his fingernails into Jack’s sides, glad that he’d retracted his claws because Jack pulled back and unleashed a pleasant cry mixed with pain and pleasure. Jack leaned his head back just enough to expose his throat to Pitch, and the Nightmare King couldn’t help but lean forward and seize that skin with his teeth. Jack cried out again, the cry turning into a light whimper as Pitch teased the skin with his tongue. He bit down, sure that he was going to leave a mark, just to hear that cry again.

Pitch looked back up at Jack to see him blushing. The red looked odd against the Guardian’s pale cheeks. Before he could stop himself, Pitch was pulling Jack’s shirt over the boy’s head. The winter spirit lifted his arms to allow the removal, then wrapped them back around Pitch’s neck when the sweatshirt was removed. When he tossed it to the side, he leaned in to nip Jack’s lips. His attention was caught on just how much redder Jack’s cheeks were since his top had been removed. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

“Uh . . .,” Jack’s voice trailed off. “No?”

“No?” Pitch breathed against the boy’s lips. Jack was trembling, absolutely trembling in Pitch’s arms. Pitch crushed the boy closer to his chest, knowing full well the stone wall was biting into the skin of Jack’s back.

“No, nothing like this,” Jack answered, the slightest hint of nervousness in his tone.

A sly grin whipped across Pitch’s face. He whispered against Jack’s lips, “I suppose that makes me special.”

“Don’t give yourself too much of a boost, there, Boogeyman,” Jack warned, but Pitch could hear the temptation, the desire for more in his tone. Jack’s lids were entirely too heavy and his voice barely a whisper. Pitch’s smile grew before he leaned in for another kiss. Jack moaned against his lips. Pitch ran a hand over Jack’s cool chest, letting it roam over the skin of the boy’s nipple. He teased it for just a moment, then went back to admiring the winter spirit’s lovely pale skin. He admired the way Jack’s body shuddered beneath his hands, growled softly at the way Jack whined when Pitch dragged his nails over the vulnerable skin of the boy’s belly. When Pitch reached down to cup the hardness growing in Jack’s crotch, the Guardian gasped while one of his hands gripped Pitch’s shoulder tightly. “Pitch!” he cried before biting his lip.

“Your screams are so lovely. Don’t bite your lip now,” Pitch whispered in Jack’s ear as his grip tightened ever so slightly. Jack moaned freely and loudly as Pitch ran his tongue over the boy’s ear. Biting the neck just under the ear elicited an even more beautiful reaction from the Guardian. Jack Frost actually ground his hips into Pitch’s hand.

“Pitch?” Jack groaned softly.

“Hm,” the Nightmare King moaned against the boy’s skin as he bit Jack yet again.

“Why are your clothes still on?”

Pitch smiled against the boy’s neck. “For someone so inexperienced, you’re quite eager.”

“You’re the one doing all the work. I was just—shit!” Jack cried out again as Pitch bit his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Pitch knew it was painful. He also knew that Jack liked it. He reveled at the feel of the boy digging his fingers into his back, holding onto Pitch for dear life as his legs tightened around the Boogeyman’s waist.

With the hand that had been grasping Jack’s groin, Pitch undid his robe and slid his arms out of it one at a time, switching off so that he was still holding Jack up. Although, he didn’t think it was necessary. The boy was so wrapped around him that he had to untangle the robe from Jack about as much as he had to untangle it from himself. After the robe dropped to his feet, Pitch managed to flip Jack around so that he was pressing the boy’s front into the wall instead of his back, angling his hips so that they were pressed against Jack’s rather tight ass. That pressure and Pitch’s hands were enough to hold the fairly light boy up against the wall. Jack splayed his hands on the wall, unsure of what to do with them now that he wasn’t facing Pitch. Pitch could also feel the slightest panic within the boy because he really had no way of holding on and ensuring that he didn’t fall. Pitch smirked, his hands sliding from Jack’s hips, over his back, to the boy’s forearms where he could hold them in place on the stone. Another wave of panic made Pitch gentle his grip on Jack’s arms. The Nightmare King noted how the idea of being bound seemed to bother the winter spirit, and he didn’t want him scared at this moment. Maybe later. For now, he leaned in to feel the chill of the boy’s back, whispering into Jack’s ear, “If I want you on the floor, I’ll put you there. For now, I like having you against this wall.”

Jack sighed and shuddered against him as Pitch spoke. Pitch’s hot breath against the boy’s neck was enough to bring out another shudder as a gray hand travelled the length of Jack’s arm back down to a thin shoulder which had not yet been marked. Grasping the area where his palm had landed, Pitch raked his teeth over Jack’s flesh, making the Guardian whimper and brace for the bite that was surely to follow. Oh, but Pitch wasn’t going to bite him again just yet. Not while the boy was tense and prepared for it. The point before had been to distract Jack from talking. Now, Pitch was just teasing the boy. Though the Guardian clearly expected pain, Pitch gave him no such thing. Instead, he ran his mouth over the pale, cool skin, loving how his tongue numbed against the flesh of Jack Frost.

“Do I taste good to you or something?” Jack was trying to sound sarcastic, but was doing poorly since his voice was shaky and his shoulders were trembling under Pitch’s lips.

“I haven’t decided yet. I think I need to keep sampling,” Pitch uttered against the back of Jack’s neck. He continued his openmouthed assault on Jack’s skin, moving over to where he had already bitten the boy. He sucked on the open wounds, the cool, metallic taste of Jack’s blood stinging his tongue. Jack moaned again as Pitch lapped at his wound. Without warning, Pitch ground his hips against Jack’s rump. The boy jumped, and Pitch knew that he was now even more aware of the bulge in Pitch’s pants. Pitch certainly was. The thing was getting harder and harder to ignore the more he played with Jack. “No, the floor just won’t do for this.”

Pitch’s hands circled around Jack’s waist and shoulders as he disappeared into the shadows with him. In a flash, he had transported them to Pitch’s bed. Jack was face down in the sheets, Pitch looming over top of him. Before he could sit up, Pitch was untying and removing Jack’s pants. “Pitch, I’ve never—.”

“I’ve gathered that much,” the Nightmare King cut him off, admiring the returning flush in Jack’s cheeks as the boy lay completely naked beneath him. Pitch leaned into the winter spirit, pressing his chest against the boy’s small back as a hand reached to grasp Jack’s throat ever so lightly. Jack gasped at the sensation, and Pitch took the opportunity to let two long fingers slide into Jack’s mouth. “Now suck.” Jack did as he was told, the inside of his mouth chilling Pitch’s fingers. When Pitch felt that his fingers were nice and slick, he slipped them from Jack’s mouth and inserted them into his ass. The boy buried his face in the sheets and cried out. “Oh no,” Pitch murmured, his other hand lifting Jack’s face out of the sheets by the throat and, in turn, pressing the boy even closer to Pitch’s chest. “I want to hear every scream.”

Pitch slid his fingers in and out, listening intently to the way Jack moaned and shouted. Sometimes the boy was even capable of forming coherent sentences as Pitch worked his fingers and widened the hole. Those moments were rare. They became even rarer when Pitch slid a third into Jack. The sound that Jack made upon that entry caused Pitch to grit his teeth. He wanted to bite the boy’s shoulder again, further mark him as his. But he couldn’t. He had to wait for the right moment. However, the notion that Jack belonged to him was almost enough to make him want to penetrate the boy right then and there. Again, he had to wait. Jack was already going to feel plenty of pain. So Pitch continued widening and stretching Jack’s entrance, placing more openmouthed kisses on the boy’s back as he slid his fingers in and out at a steady pace.

Finally, Pitch’s impatience wore thin. He removed his fingers, groaning at the sound of Jack’s almost disappointed moan, then undid his pants to free his member. Pressing himself against Jack’s entrance, he pushed in. Jack’s scream was louder than any he had released before. It was also regrettably shorter, but he was still so tight that Pitch had to fight to keep himself from thrusting.

Jack shook harder against him, whimpering at the size of Pitch. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he let out a string of curses as if it would help him adjust faster. His hands clenched into the sheets, his knuckles whitening more than Pitch had thought possible. “Pitch, it hurts!”

“Would you like a distraction?” The boy bit his lip, moaned, and nodded. Now that was what Pitch wanted to hear. He angled his head over Jack’s unmarked shoulder and bit down on the pale skin.

“Pitch!” The sound of his name on the boy’s quivering lips only made Pitch bite harder. He drank the boy’s blood as it seeped into his mouth. When he was certain the boy could endure no more, Pitch relinquished his sharp teeth and relieved the open wounds with his tongue. Jack relaxed completely against Pitch, and the Nightmare King took that as the go ahead. He thrust gently at first, moving slowly just in case. Jack moaned, no longer expressing any sounds of pain. Pitch thrust faster, angling his hips in search of the boy’s sweet spot. He knew he’d found it when Jack let out the loveliest series of cries yet.

“Mm,” Pitch growled in Jack’s ear. “You are absolutely gorgeous like this.” He began thrusting harder then, hungry for more of Jack’s beautiful sounds.

Then he stopped abruptly. It killed him to, but he pulled out anyway. “Pitch, what—fuck!” Jack’s alarm at being flipped over to face the Nightmare King amused Pitch. Pitch ran his hands down Jack’s body until they reached the boy’s thighs. Jack made a surprised noise as Pitch lifted and spread his thighs wide enough for Pitch to regain entry. The Guardian cried out again as Pitch thrust into him harder and faster than before. Pitch groaned when Jack wrapped his arms around Pitch’s neck and held on tight. Reaching down, Pitch took Jack’s erection in his hand and pumped it in time with his thrusts. Jack bucked his hips into Pitch’s hand, screaming now.

“That’s it, Jack,” Pitch said, leaning forward so that he was speaking into Jack’s ear again. Before he knew what he was saying, Pitch whispered, “You’re mine now.”

He didn’t count how many more thrusts and pumps it took, but he knew it hadn’t taken many for the tension in his groin to release and his seed to spill inside of the young Guardian. Jack’s orgasm followed soon after, the cold liquid spilling between them while some got onto Pitch’s hand. He thought nothing of it. He was too busy stealing another kiss from the boy underneath him, who still clung to his neck.



Jack had fallen asleep in the arms of the Boogeyman. Of course, that was the least of his worries. His body still ached from their activities. He couldn’t tell how long he’d slept, given that there was little to no light seeping into the lair. He’d been too tired to do anything let alone leave. He honestly didn’t want to think about the ridicule that would surely await him once the other Guardians found out. There was no doubt in his mind that they would.

He opened his eyes, gathering his bearings. His forehead was resting on Pitch’s shoulder. He was sweating everywhere Pitch was touching, and Pitch was large enough and clinging to enough of him that Jack wasn’t entirely sure every inch of him wasn’t in some form of contact with Pitch. The Nightmare King was fairly still save for a large, gray hand stroking Jack’s white hair. It would take more effort than Jack was willing or able to make in order to crawl out of the full body embrace Pitch had tucked him into. He could at least meet the Boogeyman’s silvery yellow eyes. That much movement was allowed him.

“Have you just been watching me sleep, or did you go to sleep too?” Jack asked softly.

“I don’t sleep very often.”

“Then why do you have a bed?”

“Just in case I do actually need to sleep. We all sleep sometime.”

“Sure we do. I’m surprised you didn’t give me a bad dream or something.”

“Only after the second quote unquote date.”

“Haha.” He actually did snort at that. Jack closed his eyes and sighed. His mind wandered for a while, then he came back to the topic that had started this whole mess. “You don’t actually know what made you save me, do you?”

Pitch sighed, then answered, “No. But after what just transpired, I think we can overlook that little riddle.”

Jack snorted again. “I guess not. What does matter is how I’m gonna live through this.”

“Surely the Guardians won’t punish you for abating the Nightmare King’s famous foul mood.”

“You really do think I’m yours, now, don’t you?” Jack looked up in time to see the smallest smile tug at Pitch’s lips. Jack smirked back at him. “That’s a silly question, isn’t it?” Pitch’s eyes flashed, and Jack could already tell the Boogeyman was planning something that may or may not be sinister. “I don’t wanna know.”

“You’re assuming too much,” Pitch muttered slyly.

“With you? There is no such thing as assuming too much.”

“You’re exaggerating now.”

“Hm.” Jack tried to sit up so that he could at least look Pitch in the face. The Nightmare King relinquished some of his hold on him to allow for this. It took some doing, and the aching wasn’t so unpleasant. He met Pitch’s gaze evenly. “You’re really serious about this?”

Pitch gave him a caustic stare. “Do you think you’d be alive if I weren’t?”

“Point taken. But . . . you want this?”

“Do you?” 

Jack had only heard that much sadness in Pitch’s voice when he had initially denied an allegiance between them. Oddly, it made Jack feel guiltier than he already did. “I do. You know my limits. I somewhat know yours. As long as I don’t get killed by the other Guardians, this could work out.”

“Your willingness to trust me baffles me.”

“Yeah, well, you were special enough to take my virginity.” Pitch smiled at that comment. “Am I gonna see my staff again anytime soon?”

“Now where’s the fun in me just giving it back to you?” The deviousness in Pitch’s tone and facial expression returned.

Jack huffed at that, squinting at his new . . . partner? Bedmate? Fuck buddy? Mouth date? What would the two of them be called nowadays? Jack stopped thinking about it before he confused himself. “So much for trust.”

“Oh, I’ll procure it before you leave.” Pitch pulled Jack into a possessive hug. 

Jack couldn’t help but smile at the rather uncharacteristic contact. “Okay, Nightmare King. When exactly am I allowed to leave?”

“Never.” Jack chuckled, the chuckle turning into a nervous giggle. He only hoped Pitch wasn’t being serious this time. “If the Guardians hurt you for this, I’ll kill them.”

“I believe you.” For a brief moment, Jack focused on the contrast of his skin and Pitch’s. Cold and dark. The two really did go together well. Jack wasn’t quite sure he was ready to tell Pitch he was right. Now that would go to the Boogeyman’s head faster than taking the winter spirit’s virginity.

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far the best I've done with a sex scene. I feel like my life is complete.


End file.
